


Beloved Dust

by actualkoschei



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, canon-verse, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualkoschei/pseuds/actualkoschei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The death of a star, a brother, Ohrmuzd Ahriman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beloved Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WahlBuilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/gifts).



It’s a hot day, hard white sunlight burning down, and Ahzek Ahriman is watching his brother. There’s something off about Ohrmuzd, he thinks. His laugh is softer than usual, his smile not as confident, and his movements slower and more awkward. Nothing big, not anything anyone except Ahzek would have noticed. But he is not right, that much is clear, even from the dark shuddering nature that has suddenly beset his aura.

They’ve been separated, their cults and companies training apart, but nonetheless Ahzek wishes to go to his brother. Perhaps something is troubling Ohrmuzd. Perhaps he has been injured, and Ahzek has neglected to notice. That seems unlikely, as there was most usually nothing they could keep the one from the other, their souls, bodies, and minds laid bare to each other. But even so, there was something, and Ahzek longed for their morning training to be over so he could do something about it. 

As Ahzek works his way through morning maneuvers, led by instinct and muscle memory alone, his eyes keep drifting to Ohrmuzd. At first, he thinks what he is seeing is heat shimmer, a disturbance caused by the burning sun. Then Ohrmuzd screams. 

Ahzek’s blood turns to ice. Suddenly, his vision is narrowed, all he can see is Ohrmuzd as he screams again, and doubles over. 

It’s obvious what is happening to him, and his mind, the rational part of it, shouts “Flesh Change”, even as every other fibre of his being screams back “no, it can’t be, not him!”

Control and formation be damned, Ahzek barely even realises as he leaves the line and runs to his brother’s side. Ohrmuzd falls against Ahzek, body twisting and rippling, his skin and muscle and bone tearing and bulging.

"Come on, Ohr, hold on, you will be alright." Ahzek is fighting tears, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. This can’t be real. It can’t. This is a fever dream, a cursed vision, or some trick of the heat. 

"Ahz…" Ohrmuzd whimpers, eyes wild and unfocused. "Ahz, it hurts."

Ahzek feels sharp pains shoot through his chest. “Focus on me, Ohrmuzd. Stay with me.”

"Ahriman." Someone says, a brother, his voice sharp and serious. "Ahzek. Leave him. He’s going to change fast, and we need to deal with him."

Deal with him. There’s no question as to what that means. Ahzek has seen it happen before. A bullet to the head, a quick death before whichever brother has fallen to the Flesh Change has to suffer more than necessary, or has the chance to hurt anything else. 

“No!” His voice is rough, raspy, and the thick teary sound is shocking even to him. “No, we don’t need to!”

 

Ohrmuzd’s screams turn to gurgling, his body twisting and swelling beyond all recognition. Flesh bursts, limbs bubble, and his anatomy twists into a sick mockery, an inhuman figure sketched by a child’s nightmare.

But his eyes are still his. His soul is still there, still shining.

For now. Ahzek can see it slipping. The light in his beloved brother’s eyes, his bright presence in the Great Ocean, they are fading. Already dulled with confusion and pain, they are soon to be completely lost to the mutations wracking his body. His body lives, but he is dying.

Ahzek reaches out and strokes the cheek of the thing that used to be Ohrmuzd. His fading aura pulses with pain. They are right. I can’t let him suffer like this.

“I’m sorry, Ohr.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “I’m so sorry.” His fingers reach for his bolter.

The metal feels cold and rough against his fingers, and he can only imagine how it feels to Ohrmuzd as it is pressed to his temple. Ahzek’s fingers cramp, and he squeezes the trigger more gently than he thought possible.

He never hears the shot. Instead, Ahzek falls to the ground, pain and nausea ripping through his body. His bones ache, struggling to twist into new forms, and his arms clench tight around the mutated body he cradles. He shudders, emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground as tears pour down his face.

“Ahzek.” There’s a hand on his shoulder. “Get up. It’s over.”

He lies there sobbing, unable to force his aching body to cooperate, to move. “Ohrmuzd.” He chokes through his tears. “Oh my brother. What do I do now?”


End file.
